


but i like you

by hawrthiacoopri



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M, this has been in my to finish folder for 6 months
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 21:23:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12734562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawrthiacoopri/pseuds/hawrthiacoopri
Summary: “You know,” Will pants, pushing his hair out of his slightly sweaty face, “there are certain moments where I consider you someone with brilliant ideas and a good future. This is not one of those moments.”





	but i like you

“You know,” Will pants, pushing his hair out of his slightly sweaty face, “there are certain moments where I consider you someone with brilliant ideas and a good future. This is not one of those moments.”

Mike grins, hoisting up his end of the bed. “Well, there’s no turning back now, Will. Unless you want to invite El all the way over here to move it, at which point we could be done.” 

“But why did we have to move EVERYTHING in before this stupid thing?” The smaller boy whines, still keeping his eyes trained over his shoulder, watching for some sort of sign this might work. 

Jonathan had moved out of the house for NYU a week or so ago, and Will had had it with his own small room. He’d marched up to his mom, put on a smile, and asked nicely for Jonathan's room. Joyce, however harried with work and nursing school, had said yes. On one condition: Will moves the rooms himself. No help from Joyce could be involved. 

Will agreed, or course. There was no reason not to- everything was easy, if you brought a friend. And Will had a few of those. And, of course, in the summer, all his friends had gotten internships. Except one. 

Mike Wheeler. Oh, what does one say about Michael Benjamin Wheeler? He wasn’t the strongest, not by a longshot, or the bravest, by a short one. But he was smart. And pretty. Very pretty. And thoughtful, too. Will should know, since he has, in fact, been friends with this guy for what, ten years? Eleven? Since pre-k, for sure. Will kept walking backwards, cursing his weak frame, and was snapped out of his daze as he finally came to the place where he’d planned to put the bed. 

“There,” Mike sighs, falling back onto the bed and stretching obscenely, his long legs hanging off the side of the bed. He looks up from behind his bangs, smiling with the disarming charm that seems to radiate from Mike, at Will, who looks away. “It almost had me, Willie, it almost had me there. Lucky for me, I’ve got Mr. Muscles to help me out.”

“Shut up,” Will giggles, flopping onto the bed next to him and messing Mike’s hair up further. “You don’t have to be rude about it.” Will’s aware he’s not that strong. He’s fine with it, for the most part. It’s nice, sometimes, to be so small. People pay attention to you much, much less, which is good for Will’s intents and purposes. 

Mike switches onto his side, propping his head up. “Well, maybe I want to. Thought of that?” Will hadn’t, and knows he’s kidding, but pretends to be upset, hitting Mike's arm and engaging him in a small scuffling match on the small mattress. The two tussled back and forth, giggling when their hair gets in the other’s mouth or a knee makes contact with a calf, or- much to Will’s pleasure- Mike’s lips with Will’s jawbone. It was quick, and completely accidental, but it meant more than enough to Will.

Because how many times had he dreamt, actively thought, even, of Mike Wheeler kissing him? Too many times to count, surely. Way too many. Since before he’d known that what he wanted was wrong, he had thought of Mike’s soft eyes, the curve of his beautiful nose, the feel of his dark hair. He’d drifted off in class, even, thinking about a far off place where Mike could mean more, be more, than just Will’s gorgeous best friend. He’d thought of kissing him in every way imaginable; on carnival rides, at the pool, in their rooms, softly, fleetingly- nothing too out of the ordinary. So it was only natural a veritable kiss should make him anxious, right?

Will’s struggle stops as soon as lips meet jaw, and he simply goes lax- a different form of protest. He hears Mike let out a whoosh of air and smiles evilly. “You learned your lesson?”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, please don’t beat me up with your flowers and your paintbrushes!” He laughs, grabbing Will’s wrists and playing with his hands. “Whatever will I do?”

“You’d better run,” Will growls playfully, pushing his hands down and slowly, laboriously flipping (with some help from Mike) the two over, so Mike is on top of him. “Oof, Mike, who knew you'd be so heavy?”

“I am five eleven!” He laughs, flipping them yet again so they’re side by side. “You should’ve thought of that, Mister I-Can-Sit-Inside-A-Cardboard-Box!”

Will shrugs his shoulders, looking at Mike’s face, which was so close now he could count Mike’s many freckles. “At least I can still wear fun clothes,” he shoots back, “instead of your gross old man sweaters.”

Mike looked down at his sweater vest, the many glittery colors and soft wool threads a point of pride for him. This was expensive, after all. It was Pendleton wool. “They’re not gross old man sweaters! They’re cute!”

Will bit back the urge to say ‘I love you’ with a small smile, and instead just rolled his eyes. “They are so not cute, Mike. They make you look like your dad.”

“My sister says that too,” Mike retorted.

“So it’s two against one, is what you’re saying.”

“No! That’s- I- but- whatever.” Mike turned away from the smaller boy, his back to Will’s chest. The brunette absently loops his arms around Mike, and pulled him closer. He felt Mike’s heart inexplicably pick up under his hands. 

“Whatever what?” Will teased, smiling into Mike’s neck.

Mike felt his cheeks redden- he and Will had always been tactile, but not like this- never like this. He wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not- but he didn’t feel like stopping, and that must be a sign. 

“Whatever you say,” he said irritably, and turned back around to face Will.

But oh, no, that was a mistake on poor Mike’s part- he was faced with an eyeful of Will Byers, auburn hair and brown eyes and beauty marks and all. 

Shit.

“/Whatever/ I say?” Will asked teasingly, quirking an eyebrow and grinning.

Mike bit his lip, looking at Will’s lips with timid eyes and feeling his heart sink as hes saw Will’s smile fade.

“Shut up,” he grumbled quickly, and without even thinking- without even assessing what he was about to do- he grabbed Will by the lapels and kissed him. 

The kiss was short, sweet- their lips caught each other’s and their noses bumped as they both blinked in surprise- even mike did, even though it was he who had started it. They finally split apart, and there was a silence. Will broke it.

“You know,” he said softly as he traced Mike’s collar, “I think I actually like this sweater.”

“Yeah?” Mike asked hopefully, raising an eyebrow as his face lit up even more.

Will snorted affectionately. “No, dummie.”

“Oh.”

Will spoke his next words quiet as can be, but Mike’s ears still turned red.

“But I like you.”


End file.
